Earth16 Rogues
by Kizmet
Summary: Side stories for "Muddling through Grey". Ch4: Owen's first day at Kindergarten
1. Constraint

**Constraints**

**Disclaimer:** Characters and premise are the property of DC, I'm just borrowing them for a little non-profit fun.

**Summary:** Catwoman stops by Central to verify certain rumors.

* * *

Selina wrinkled her nose distastefully, Central City was so... plebeian. Completely lacking the gothic grandeur of Gotham or even the fierce modernness of Metropolis. It was a sprawling, working city, grown-up over the years without any sort of guiding vision. It was also too low and spread out for swinging from roof to roof. Selina found herself reduced to skulking through alleys to get around.

She was almost ready to pack it in as a bad bet when a red-headed teenager in green and white polka-dots stomped past. Selina shrugged and followed him, slipping from one pool of shadows to the next like the cat she'd taken her name from. She trailed him back to a warehouse along the river front.

While the boy went in, Selina scaled the building as if walking up a staircase. She let herself in through a skylight just in time to hear a stereo flipped on to something loud and angry.

"Damnnit Piper! I just got Owen settled down!" an Australian accented voice shouted, to no effect.

"Missy, you're certain easy on the eyes, but most guests come in through the front door."

Selina turned to see a tall, husky man in a blue parka pointing a sci-fi looking gun at her. She smiled charmingly. "I didn't see a wire. That must be some security system."

"Temperature sensor, picked up the variation when you let the air conditioning out," Cold explained.

"Mmmm, clever," Selina replied. She shrugged, still laying on the charm since the gun was still pointed at her. "I was coming to talk with you, but I do like making an entrance. You understand."

"What about?"

Selina frowned. "I heard a rumor the Rogues went straight? That can't be right."

Cold grimaced. "Fresh new pardons, no reason to be in a rush to invalidate them."

"But, don't you find it... confining?" Selina shuddered delicately. "You were free, living by no rules but your own."

Cold started to reply but Selina went right on without giving him the opportunity to get a word in. "Now you're volunteering to let them put a collar on you. Agreeing to play by their rules. To be limited.

Len rolled his eyes, holstered his weapon and leaned back against the wall to wait out Selina's rant.

"Alright, not killing is a choice I made for myself. And yes, there are challenges on the vigilante side of things. But it's not the same. It's so... reactionary. Our side always gets to lead the dance. And there's nothing to replace the thrill of seeing a pretty-shiny and scheming to make it yours just because you can and they can't stop you. Aren't you afraid you'll be bored?"

A harsh bark of laugher escaped Cold. "Bored? Woman, I have kids." He glanced toward the mirror. "Speaking of which, Evan! Why the hell do you have an arrow stuck in your rigging?"

"Because whatever I did that ticked Little Miss Arrowette off, weren't bad enough for her to actually shoot me?" Evan shrugged. "Maybe she's on the rag."

Selina rolled her eyes, "Charming," she muttered.

"Anyway, Tricks and Baby-Flash are fighting. Thought you'd want to know. It went all out about a minute ago," Evan finished.

"Oh for the love of..." Cold exclaimed. "Well, let's get over there."

Selina invited herself along, stepping through the mirror after Cold. They emerged through a department store window, just in time to get hit by a paint-balloon Kid Flash had deflected. It was clearly far from the first such missile to be launched. Both Kid Flash and Trickster himself were sporting a rainbow of paint splatters. And the Flash looked more bedraggled than either of the boys, he'd had the misfortune to get caught in a cross-fire while trying to break up the fight.

"Somehow, this is your fault," Flash accused Cold as he skidded to a stop beside them.

Selina scaled the nearest building, not eager to become collateral damage. Robin joined her a few moment later, he had popcorn. Thoughtfully he offered to share.

"You grab yours, I grab mine?" Cold suggested. For a moment Flash looked ready to argue terminology then he nodded.

Flash waited impatiently while Cold worked his way closer to Trickster. Then when the other man was in position Flash slipped in and yanked his nephew out of the fight. Trickster tried to use the interference to his advantage but found his arms twisted behind his back.

"You pull a job?"Cold asked the younger Rogue.

"No, gave my word to be good."

"Then why the hell are you two fighting?"

In a heartbeat both Wally and James were shouting out their grievances.

Len and Barry shared a grimace as they made out something about: "Saw her first." "Likes me better." "Does not!" "Does so!"

While the two boys shouted their audience grew.

"Who's the young lady in question?" Selina asked Robin curiously. "And which one does she like? Or is she just playing them against each other?"

"Ms. Martian," Robin replied. "I don't think she's noticed them fighting over her. She's too hung up on Piper's boyfriend... Have you thought over what Bats asked?"

"Don't rush me, Boy Wonder," Selina snapped.

Down below James and Wally's shouting had almost escalated back to blows. Len put two fingers in his mouth and whistled piercingly. "The two of you are fighting over a girl?" he asked in disgust. "Do you know how stupid that is?"

James smiled brightly. "Like when you and Rory got caught... By the police no less, after the two of you knocked each other out over that one hooker?"

Len scowled. "You're too old to sound precocious when you make cracks like that anymore."

Barry groaned. "I knew it. I'm getting sucked in by your bad karma," he complained to Len.

"She's not just a girl," Evan offered from the sidelines. "She's a shape-shifter. 'Till M'Gann showed up for practice today I never considered the fringe benefits of dating a 'shifter."

"And the blond girl with the bow who looks around ready to start making pin-cushions?" Selina asked.

"Artemis, the other girl on the team," Robin said. "The one the guys aren't fighting over."

"Ouch," Selina said. "And you aren't involved?"

Robin wrinkled his nose. "I'm fourteen, Arty's seventeen and M'Gann's something like forty technically. Sure that translates to late teens in human-years but she's into Conner and while he's technically thirteen months old he's sort of more like seventeen too. Anyway, you see how dumb those two look? No thanks."

Selina smiled. "Give it another year or two. You'll have to beat the girls off with a stick... and you won't want to bother." She ruffled Robin's hair fondly.

Down below Len was wrapping up. "And this paint sure as hell better wash off."

Trickster scuffed his toe and grinned shame-facedly. "I got got too," he offered as compensation.

Barry sighed. "That's another costume down the drain. Seriously James, you need to stop reusing security dye packets in your gear."

"But we've got, like, hundreds lying around," James pointed out. "Hart's aces at disarming them."

"Please don't remind me," Barry groaned.

"We're being good now," James said virtuously.

Barry took James by one should and Wally by the other and slowly turned them around to view the collateral damage caused by their fight. "If this is being good..."

Meanwhile Len had noticed Conner standing on the sidelines watching him with a combination of hopeful, worried and embarrassed that Len was learning to recognize as a prelude to questions that, in Conner's mind, absolutely had to be answered by Len and no one else. He sighed waved Conner over, no point in putting off the inevitable.

"So?" Len prompted.

Conner hesitated then blurted out. "Do girls get strange mind effecting powers from being..." He paused, apparently searching for a suitable term then settled on "top-heavy?"

Cold bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

"Because M'Gann..."

"Decided to shift her body-type to one based on Power Girl?" Len theorized.

Conner thought about it then nodded. "And, well, Wally and James kept getting weirder and weirder until-" he gestured toward the aftermath of their fight. "And Hart stormed out of practice the third time M'Gann wanted to ask me something. And Arty got mad and started taking shots at Evan 'cause she says he's a perv..."

"That's right," Len interrupted, his tone serious despite the desire to laugh. "Girls being 'top-heavy' can have a deleterious effect on the thought processes of people, particularly guys, in their vicinity. Now why don't you go tell Hartley that you're immune and spare the rest of us suffering through his sulking-music?"

"That will make him not mad?" Conner asked.

"I think so," Len replied and Conner took off with one of his block-long leaps. Len glanced back at the fight scene and saw Barry had James and Wally sanding down the walls they'd left splattered with marker dye. He decided he was just as happy leaving the hero to play disciplinarian for the hormonal brats and made his own exit before anyone could rope him into helping.

Selina dropped down from the roof beside Len. She stared at him for several minutes, her head tilted to the side for better study. "You're happy," she declared, clearly puzzled.

Len thought about it for a moment. "Hn, suppose I am." He shook his head. "Generally I'm too busy rising herd on this lot of nutcases to notice."


	2. A Giant Cream Pie

A Giant Cream Pie

**Disclaimer: **Characters and premise are the property of DC, I'm just borrowing them for a little non-profit fun.

**Note:** Stories in this series are all one-shots. There won't be any sort of chronological order. Just me playing around a little bit more with this AU.

This particular story is set during Trickster's first year as a Rogue and his first year of Middle School with Wally as a classmate.

* * *

"What was stolen again?" Barry asked his colleague at the police lab.

"1000 tubes of pre-made chocolate chip cookie dough, 75 lbs sugar, 50 lbs cornstarch, 30 gal of milk, 417 cartons of eggs, 20 lbs butter, 2 gallons of vanilla, 20 bunches of bananas, 16 lbs of powdered sugar and 1500 cans of whipping cream," Patty Melcher read off the report.

Barry shook his head, "Something about that list nags at me."

"Like someone's out to make the world's biggest banana cream pie?" Patty replied. "But I can't figure out the cookie dough."

"It's the crust," Barry remarked absently, then groaned. "Patty, could you cover for me? I need to check on James immediately, yesterday in fact."

"The air-walking kid?" Patty asked. "He's still staying with you and Iris?"

"Sometimes," Barry sighed. "When he feels like it. He needs a stable home, but James doesn't realize that, he's never had one. Twelve or not, he thinks he can take care of himself and the last thing I want to do is scare him off completely. Iris and I, we're... we're just trying to make sure he's got somewhere to turn to if he gets in over his head."

"Go," Patty said. "Good luck keeping him out of trouble."

As he exited the station Barry switched to the Flash and set about searching the city at super-speeds. Hopefully he could head James off before anything happened. Ninety seconds later he crossed the bridge into Keystone. He found what he was looking for just in time to see the giant cream-pie; Iris' favorite recipe unless he missed his guess; arc gracefully through the air and smack into the gleaming face of a brand new factory. The filling splattered across the collection of corporate execs and city dignitaries gathered for the ribbon cutting ceremony.

Flash turned and there he was: A boy in orange and blue stripes, capering in mid-air over a catapult. 'A catapult of all things. Where did he get a catapult? Better question: Where did he get the stuff to _build_ a catapult?" The boy laughed and pumped his fist in the air.

Flash zipped across the intervening distance, crossed his arms over his chest and frowned sternly at the boy. "James, what do you think you're doing?"

The boy pointed to the domino mask hiding his eyes. "I'm wearing the mask, it's Trickster. Play right!" He lobbed a globule of filling at Flash. "What do you think of my pie?"

"Not too bad, but not any competition," Flash said.

"I though I did pretty good, given how much I had to scale up recipe," Trickster protested.

"You forgot the salt," Flash pointed out. "Now, _Trickster_, what do you think you're doing?"

Trickster grinned broadly, his expression full of mischief. "Captain Cold says villain-monologuing in the middle of a get-away is for morons."

"So I've got to catch you first?" Flash asked.

"If you can," Trickster challenged. He took off running, gaining altitude with every step.

Flash shook his head and took off after him on the ground. When he was beneath Trickster he spun up a whirl-wind.

Trickster countered it with a modified whirly-gig. "Old trick, Flasher. Not gonna catch me with one of those," he laughed.

Flash paused to study Trickster's new toy. Then he dashed after the boy again, setting up a system of twisters going at different velocities and in different directions. Eventually Trickster misjudged the strength of one of the twisters and was thrown off balance. He went limp as he fell.

Flash skidded to a stop beneath Trickster. The boy grinned up at him, 'Falling wasn't so bad when you knew you'd be caught,' Trickster thought. "Made you work for it," he declared proudly.

Flash shook his head and put Trickster back on his feet but he kept a firm hold on the back of the boy's collar. "Okay Trickster. Now. What. Is. This. All. About?" he demanded.

* * *

"Where were you today?" Iris Allen asked, her expression caught between relief and curiosity, as her husband walked in the door. "Captain Cold and Mirror Master cleaned out the First National Bank. Heatwave and Captain Boomerang got the US Bank. I worried when I heard Flash wasn't seen at either."

Barry closed his eyes and groaned. "These robberies. They wouldn't have both happened at say, about 2:17 this afternoon?" he asked.

"I didn't notice the exact time," Iris replied. "But that sounds about right, why?"

* * *

James sat on the witness stand, his legs tucked beneath him so he could be seen over the partition. He was neatly dressed and look about three-quarters of his twelve years. He smiled at the judge his face open and guileless. "I documented everything, just like a real scientist, like Barry," he declared as he produced a lab-book.

Barry hid his face in his hands.

The judge accepted the book skeptically. On the first few pages were diagrams of the catapult along with force and trajectory calculations. And there were sketches. The CGM factory, the ribbon cutting ceremony, little people standing in front of it covered in goop, alternately shaking their fists at James' representation of himself or sitting on the ground crying buckets.

"I had to work really hard on the pie," James continued earnestly. "Making it that big wasn't easy and I had to be careful about getting everything mixed right and heated evenly. I mean a soccer-ball sized clump of cornstarch could really hurt someone and I just wanted to make a mess. Pages 14 through 43," he added helpfully.

The judge sighed and flipped to the indicated pages. As James had said there was documentation of weeks' worth of experiments to ensure that the prank wouldn't result in injuries.

"Heatwave helped you construct this... oven?" the judge frowned.

"Heatwave? That scary guy who sets fires?" James widened his eyes in an exaggerated expression of alarm. "My friend, Mick Rory, helped me," he insisted innocently. "I was really worried about making the crust right. It had to crumble into little pieces as soon as I launched it from the catapult."

"Even though no one was hurt, and that was clearly by intent, you are still guilty of vandalism," the judge pointed out sternly.

The doors to the court room swung open dramatically and a slight red-head ran in. "It's all my fault!" he exclaimed. "Don't punish James! He and Wally are all the friends I've got!"

"Young man, you can't just-" the judge began.

Hartley kept talking over him, his voice getting steadily louder as the twelve-year-old got more upset. "You can't send James to prison! You can't! It's my fault! He's my friend!"

Barry crouched down in front of Hartley. "Hartley! Calm down. Let's talk calmly," he said, signing as well to reinforce the message.

After several moment Hartley quieted.

"You're calm? You're paying attention?" Barry asked, still reiterating in sign.

Hartley nodded.

Barry sighed, "Good. My ASL is limited. Alright, how is it 'your fault' that James baked a giant pie, dressed up as Trickster and lobbed it at the new CGM Factory?"

"Because the people in charge of it are bad," Hartley explained to Barry. "I saw them talking about cutting corners and paying off the inspectors and 'making a killing'. I told James and Wally about it. And James did something!" Hartley paused to give his friend a worshipful look.

Barry grimaced. Wally had been trying to tell him about something a few days earlier, but he'd been getting ready for the trial against the serial killer, Dr. Michael Amar and then Grodd had resurfaced...

"CSI Allen," the judge said. "Could you explain to this young man that he can't simply burst in here making slanderous accusations-"

"I didn't lie!" Hartley exclaimed angrily.

Barry felt a headache coming on. "Your Honor, could you excuse me for a moment?" he asked. "There should be one more running around here somewhere."

"Wally distracted the guard for me," Hartley confirmed.

"Hartley, promise you'll sit here and not interrupt?" Barry asked. "James is still in trouble, even if he meant well."

Hartley's posture crumpled into miserable huddle. Barry picked him up and sat him on one of the benches in the courtroom.

It didn't take long to find Wally in the courthouse.

"Uncle Barry!" Wally exclaimed.

The security guard marching Wally out of the building switched his glare over from the boy to his Uncle. "CSI Allen, are you connected to this miscreant?"

"Yes. I'll keep him out of any more trouble," Barry promised as he collected Wally.

"Uncle Barry, Hartley and I took the bus all by ourselves!" Wally whispered excitedly. "We didn't get lost once. And I made Hartley wear a doctor-mask while we were on the bus so he wouldn't get exposed to any germs. I took good care of him."

At the mention of germs, Barry groaned remembering that Hartley was just days from his latest round of surgery and probably shouldn't have been out his house.

"Does Hart really need more hospitals?" Wally continued worriedly. "He lip reads really well, you can't even tell he's deaf unless he's upset and forgets. I don't want him getting another post-operative infection. He had to stay in the hospital for weeks and weeks and it was really scary."

"That's up to Hartley and his parents," Barry said as he dug for his cellphone.

"You mean it's up to his Dad, Lord Bossy," Wally muttered.

Barry held up a finger for silence as his call connected. "Hello sergeant. If Mrs. Rathaway calls… She already has? No, no Hartley wasn't kidnapped, he just went exploring. The Feds too? Already? …She knows a congressman, of course. Well, you can call off the amber alert: Hartley and Wally turned up at the courthouse... Yes, James' case… Did Mrs. Rathaway happen to mention that my nephew went missing along with Hartley? No, I'll call Mrs. Rathaway and let her know that both boys are safe. Sorry for all the trouble."

Barry hung up and dialed a second number. "Rachel? It's Barry Allen... Rachel, Rachel! Hartley's okay... He's fine Rachel. He and Wally just turned up at the Courthouse; I was here for a trial... You do remember that Wally was visiting today? That means your staff needs to keep track of both boys." Barry listened for several minutes, frowning. "I'll see that he gets home safely... All right, you'll send your driver and the limo. Tell him we'll meet him on the front steps... Truly Rachel, Hartley is fine, a little over-excited but in perfect condition. Both boys are fine, but you need to have someone keep a better eye on them."

"Hartley's mom is a poop," Wally contributed.

"She won't let you see Hartley anymore if the two of you keep getting in trouble. Your parents won't let you keep going over there if they think Hartley's family doesn't keep a proper eye on you," Barry warned. He opened the door and ushered Wally into the courtroom.

"House arrest and community service," James reported to Barry, looking contrite. "You'll take responsibility for me won't you?"

Barry saw Wally seated beside Hartley then went up to talk to the judge. "Your honor, I know it's irregular but we haven't been able to contact James' parents in over a year. He regularly lives with my wife and I-"

"Yes, I'm aware of the unusual circumstances." The judge frowned, "You understand that if I release him into your custody I will hold you accountable for him. Two months house arrest, with an ankle bracelet. He is to be in school or at home, he can ride the bus, but he cannot be allowed to walk between the two. No after-school activities outside of his community service. Definitely no contact with convicted felons. "

"Yes, I understand."

The judged turned to James, "Be assured the community service will be unpleasant; cleaning the restroom at the bus station possibly. "

James' lower lip quivered. Barry fought the urge to roll his eyes.

* * *

"Community service! Am I good or what?" James exclaimed as the four of them sat on the stairs outside the courthouse waiting for Hartley's ride.

"Impossible is what you are," Barry sighed.

"But the judge said-" Hartley worried.

"I've mucked out elephant stalls," James replied confidently. "There's nothing he can come up with that's going to bother me. I hope Chyre has to monitor me, it's fun to play with his head."

"James?" Barry asked sternly. "Did you know the Rogues were going to use your stunt as a decoy while they robbed those banks?"

James blinked at him innocently. "They robbed a bank?"

Barry looked unimpressed.

"You didn't tell the judge," James pointed out happily.

"I should have my head examined," Barry muttered.

Wally looked conflicted, "Hart really did see people talking about doing bad stuff at that factory," he said.

Hartley nodded, "At one of my parents' parties. I hate going to those. No one pays any attention to me. They'll talk like I'm not even in the room. Plus all my parents friends are jossers!" he declared, clearly pleased his new vocabulary.

Barry groaned. "First, James, don't teach Hartley rude things to call people in Parlari. Second, you can't go around making giant pies and throwing them at people, period. Especially not with catapults. For any reason."

"I'm sorry," James said putting his contrite expression back on.

"I only hypothetically said an outboard motor would work like a giant mixer," Wally interjected.

Barry rubbed his temples. "Wally, you know James well enough to know his hypotheticals are never hypothetical. Hartley, your mother thought you were kidnapped. She called the police, a congressman and the FBI."

"Again?" Hartley flushed. "Mother treats me like I'm five! Wally and James get to walk to school and do stuff on their own! I have to take the chauffeur just to walk around the grounds at my house! And this was important! What if they locked James up? He was just trying to help!"

"No he wasn't," Barry said with a frown at James. "The three of you need to stop getting into trouble. James, you know giant cream pies are not an appropriate response to ANYTHING... Especially not when they're conveniently timed to distract the Flash. Wally, Hartley the two of you can't just up and leave whenever you feel like it. The two of you could have been hurt or kidnapped for real wandering around town like that on your own. Your parents aren't going to keep letting you play together if you do things like this."

Hartley made a distressed noise and latched on to Wally and James, staring up at Barry with huge, panicky eyes, instantly making Barry feeling like the bad guy. "I'm sorry," Barry sighed. "But it's true, you have to think before you do things."

James started to protest.

Barry cut him off, "Yes, I know you put a lot of thought into this stunt of yours; it was still a bad idea and you know why."

Barry hesitated. There was no Earthly _good_ application for a giant cream pie, he shouldn't ask, it would just encourage James. "I don't suppose the judge returned your lab book?"

James produced the book with one of his sunniest smiles.

Barry thumbed through it quickly, although not at Flash speeds due to Hartley's presence. There weren't any good _applications_ for a giant cream pie, but the trajectory calculations demonstrated a solid understanding of classical mechanics. The problem of mixing on that scale wasn't a bad chemical engineering project, Wally's brainstorm about the outboard motor was clever, although it had only been the first step. He really should make certain Heatwave had explained the thermodynamic principles involved in baking the thing, just in case the criminal had simply done the work for James instead of taking the time to teach him.

"The motor was a good use of something readily available to solve your problem, but it wasn't the only thing you had on hand," Barry said. James and Wally sat on either side of him, leaning over his shoulders to see the lab book. Hartley sat cross-legged on the steps in front of him so he could lip-read more easily. "If you asked, I think Hartley could probably amp up those speakers his; the ones you made so you could feel the music's vibrations without your hearing aids," Barry said to Hartley. "If you adapted them just a little bit further you'll have an ultrasonic mixer, you could liquify all those cornstarch clumps James was worrying about."

The three boys looked at each other gleefully at the word liquify.

Barry wondered when he'd taken leave of his senses.


	3. A Robin by Any Other Name

**A Bird by Any Other Name**

**Disclaimer: **Characters and premise are the property of DC, I'm just borrowing them for a little non-profit fun.

**Acknowledgement:** Written in response to Harprani's request: "I'd love to see how the rouges and young justice (minus KF and Trickster) find out about Robin's secret identity." Only I'd implied in the first chapter of "Muddling Through Grey" that it was already common knowledge among the team that Artemis and Robin attend school together, so it ended up mostly Young Justice finding out.

* * *

_February 20, 2006_

James trailed along behind his father, tugging on ropes and examining knots for the fifteenth time that night. It was the first time in his life that James didn't feel alone in his fear of heights. Between every act someone, usually several someones, checked the rigging.

Still as James climbed up to the platform on the center pole he felt his stomach clenching with dread. In his mind's eye he saw the shaky home-video that had been all over the news for the last few days replay.

_"Look Timmy," the camera-man said, directing his son's attention upward as the trio in red and gold waved to the crowd and the Ringmaster went into his spiel as the net was dropped. John Grayson took the bar and swung out over the void. He swung by his knees building up momentum. From the other side of the tent, Mary did the same. Then she leapt, her husband caught her arms in a secure grip, but their combined weight was too much for the sabotaged ropes. The horrified screams from the crowd covered the sound of the ropes snapping, the sickening thuds of their bodies hitting the packed dirt but James' mind filled in the missing details. He could see the sounds in the horrified expression of their son._

James bowed to the crowd and painted a rictus grin on his face. Tonight, even his air walks weren't enough to keep the fear of falling at bay.

Four months later the Graysons were back in the news. Their murderer had been brought to justice. Brought in by the Batman and a masked boy who wore the Flying Graysons' colors.

"Good for him," James' father said with a nod toward the boy. "You know the mingers wouldn't have done anything. Circus folk gotta take care of their own."

Six months after Tony Zucco's arrest James sat alone in a police station wondering who would take care of him now that even his own kind didn't want him.

* * *

_December 14, 2009_

While Batman and the Flash conferred Kid Flash stared around him, his jaw hanging slack, his eyes wide behind his goggles. He'd only been allowed to put the costume on a month ago and even if he had been helping his Uncle Barry longer Wally knew the Batcave would still inspire awe. Uncle Barry didn't have _anything_ like this!

Then Wally saw the other boy; he was perched on top of the dinosaur's head, legs dangling, head canted to one side as he stared down at Wally curiously. Wally stared back with equal frankness. The boy was smaller than Wally had expected, it seemed impossible that he'd been Robin even longer than James had been Trickster.

By odd coincidence, after that night Flash and Batman seemed to have almost regular team-ups and somehow they always brought their sidekicks along. Somehow team-ups evolved into sleep-overs and texting charges so outrageous that Batman ended up offering to pay the bill. Wally's parents had threatened to take away his phone, in return Robin had made it very, very clear to his mentor that the world would end if he and Wally couldn't update each other about super-hero battles and video game high scores.

And somewhere along the way masks and costumes were set aside. Alfred didn't allow costumes in the Manor proper. Mary West thought wearing sunglasses at the dinner table was rude.

Then one day Wally was absently flipping through a magazine while waiting for his turn in the dentist chair. /Dude! Your pic's in a mag,/ he texted to Robin.

/.../

Wally blinked at Robin's lack of reaction. He read the caption under the picture.

/Dick Grayson?/

/Yes, No big/

Wally considered the implications of Robin being Dick Grayson. He stared at the man standing next to his ward in the photograph. If Dick was Robin then Batman was... Wally considered what he knew of the man who was a near constant presence in tabloids across the country... Batman was...

Then Wally sent one last message: /Call you later. My brain broke./

* * *

_September 13, 2011_

It was a brilliantly sunny autumn day at Gotham Academy. Artemis glanced across the quad and thought: 'What the hell is Robin doing at my school?' Then the boy stepped into the shadow of the building and took off his sunglasses. 'It's just that annoying Dick Grayson,' she realized.

Half-way through her next class Artemis suddenly jumped to her feet. "Oh my god!" she exclaimed.

Her classmates and teacher stared as Artemis felt her cheeks heating, she just knew she was beet red.

"Is there a problem?" the teacher asked.

"Um, I, uh, saw a spider?" Artemis excused herself weakly. But embarrassment couldn't erase her epiphany: Dick Grayson was Robin.

'That little troll!' Artemis thought as she remembered every time Robin had made her come up with excuses for being in Gotham.

* * *

_September 23, 2011_

Superboy stared at the static filled TV screen and let the team's bustle from the kitchen wash over him, erasing the long lonely silence of the previous week.

Kaldur cleared his throat and stood up purposefully. Robin noticed immediately. He cocked his head to the side, giving their team-leader his attention. M'Gann set aside her mixing bowl, ignoring Wally's latest 'hot' comment and Artemis' retaliatory snipe.

"If I could have your attention please," Kaldur said, a small edge creeping into his voice. Wally and Artemis quieted. Superboy turned off the TV and walked over to lean on the island separating kitchen and lounge.

"Artemis has brought it to my attention that a series of Gotham teenagers have recently been kidnaped," Kaldur stated as he handed out folders. "The purpose has been ransom. All the teens have been returned unharmed thus far but the police have few leads."

"It's Gotham," Robin objected. "Batman knows about it. If he wanted our help he'd give us a mission."

"I believe presenting Batman with a plan for us to deal with the kidnappers will demonstrate that we are capable of detecting threats and acting to intervene without supervision," Kaldur replied. "If he does not wish for our help in this matter he can decline our plan."

"I think Dick Grayson will probably be the next target," Artemis piped up with a knowing smirk at Robin. "He's Bruce Wayne's adopted son and he's practically asking to get taken."

Wally looked between Artemis and Robin. "Since when do you know anything about Gotham?" he objected. "Star City is Arrow territory."

Robin jumped at the line Wally had thrown him. "I've seen you hanging around Gotham a lot. What are _you_ hiding?"

"Oh, I don't know... Only that Green Arrow is my uncle, not my dad. Wait!" She slapped her forehead. "We told you that the day I met you. I _live_ with my mom. In Gotham. That's such a _huge_ secret."

"It is irrelevant to the matter at hand," Kaldur said. "I wish to offer Batman our best effort on this plan. Even if he declines it we have shown increasing maturity and awareness."

"I think we should start by mapping Grayson's movements," Artemis chimed in with another smirk at Robin. Superboy concluded, once again, that Artemis was the most confusing person he'd ever met... not that he'd actually met many people since being rescued from his tube.

* * *

_September 25, 2011_

"You said yes! I can't believe you said yes!" Robin exclaimed.

"It was a solid plan," Batman replied calmly.

"Our plan was better!" Robin protested.

"They don't know Dick Grayson is Robin," Batman pointed out.

"Well they're gonna before this is over!" Robin complained.

"Think of it as a challenge," Batman instructed. "You need to learn to keep more distance between your identities."

"I'm not acting like an idiot in public," Robin stated firmly. "Besides, I think Artemis already suspects."

"She's looking for confirmation," Batman agreed.

"She's being a pain!" Robin whined. "And the plan calls for her to tail me during school hours! She's gonna make my life hell!"

"I wonder why," Batman interjected drily. "Using your secret identity to tease your teammates is _not_ a good way to go undiscovered."

"And Supey's following me after school. How am I supposed to get anything done being Dick 24-7?" Robin continued over Batman.

"I did let your team know that you have your own duties during the week which take precedence," Batman pointed out. "However, don't let that stop you from looking for ways to allow Robin to make appearances. Consider this as an opportunity. If you're clever you might even convince Artemis she's on the wrong track."

* * *

_September 26, 2011_

Robin walked into school with the feel of doom hanging over his head. Today was the day the team's plan to guard Dick Grayson went into effect.

Artemis wasted no time in proving his fears well-founded: Before he'd even made it to his locker she came up behind him and slung an arm over his shoulders with no warning. "Hi!" Artemis declared with a scarily cheerful smile. "I'm Artemis, I hear you're the guy to see about Mathathletes. You are Dick Grayson, right?"

While Artemis prattled on Dick bit back the impulse to flip her over his shoulder and mentally cursed. 'She knows how someone with Robin's training would react to being grabbed from behind. The chava's trying to make me give myself away.'

When third period rolled around and his new best friend showed up in his P.E. class Robin seriously considered the merits of 'accidentally' falling off the bleachers and knocking himself unconscious.

"So, I was totally in the wrong language class, but hey, easy A. I mean my mom's practically a native French-speaker, I grew up hearing it. Only Mom noticed so no more French I. And my whole schedule got rearranged. On the plus side: Another class with you."

'Con: It's tough to precisely gauge the degree of force needed to knock someone out. I could give myself more of a concussion than I meant to.' Robin thought. 'Pro: Avoid Artemis until tomorrow, maybe for a couple days if I bang my head hard enough.'

"Hey! Aren't you like a professional acrobat or something? Why don't you show us something?"

"I haven't kept in practice. Not since my parents..." Dick declined.

He watched the expressions flash across Artemis' face: Guilt, pity, discomfort at being reminded that she was talking to someone who'd seen his parents murdered. Robin grimaced, even among his teammates his background still set him apart once they knew. It had taken ages for Wally to go back to treating him like normal once the other boy had realized what Robin equals Dick Grayson meant.

Then Artemis' expression settled on anger as it occurred to her that he'd lied: Robin had not let his parents' murder steal his love of flying from him.

Robin sympathized. He didn't really like using what had happened to his parents to protect his secret identity either. Still she back off for the rest of th school day.

* * *

That night Robin grinned broadly as he ran his eyes over the selection of vehicles inhabiting Bruce Wayne's garage. There _were _a few perks associated with playing spoiled rich kid just asking to be abducted. This was definitely one of them.

Robin had a special dispensation driver's licence, curtsey of Commissioner Gordon. Dick Grayson had two more years before he could apply for his learner's permit. And as cool as his bike was it wasn't a Lamborghini Reventon. The car was the perfect thing for Dick Grayson to sneak out of the house with. Nothing advertised 'gave security the slip' like a thirteen year old driving a high end sports car.

As the car peeled out of the driveway Dick caught a brief glimpse of Superboy as the older teen gave chase on foot. While he wasn't in Kid Flash's class, Superboy could still out run any street-legal vehicle. Kaldur had felt that their motorcycles might attract too much attention from the security at Wayne Manor. He was right, but earlier that evening Batman had said that the team was doing a decent job of staying off the official security's radar. Than he had added, "There may be hope yet of your team learning the definition of 'covert'."

"Like the Justice League ever gets anything done without explosions that can be seen for miles," Robin had defended his team and Batman hadn't disagreed.

Dick zipped along the roads and across the bridge into Gotham proper. Then he turned the car toward the clubbing district. The fake ID Dick showed at the door shouldn't have been good enough to get past the bouncer, but it was something a teenager could acquire without much knowledge of forged identification. Still, the hundred dollar bill he slipped the bouncer along with the ID got the job done. As Dick went inside he spotted Superboy standing in the line scowling and looking like a sore thumb in his jeans and S-Shield tee-shirt. 'Hope he doesn't just force his way in when he gets turned away,' Dick thought. He considered lingering near the door to see how Superboy would handle the situation but decided to keep to the pattern he'd established in the last few weeks.

Once his eyes adjusted to the strobing lights, Dick headed toward the normal spot. The crowd gathered there were somewhat older than he was but still underage. Dick had skipped a few grades so it wasn't totally implausible that he'd pick them as the 'in-crowd'.

"Hey guys!" Dick exclaimed. The older teens glanced around, recognized him and dismissed him without a word. Dick contrived to look a bit disappointed but still hopeful despite the rebuff. He continued to hang around on the edge of the group. After about ten minutes he tried again. "I brought the Lamborghini, so if anyone needs a ride home..." No one took him up on the offer. "It's a really cool ride," he added in the tone of one desperately trying not to make an unpleasant realization. Dick's third attempt for acknowledgment went better. "Mara, you're here!" he exclaimed, putting a hand on one of the girls' arms. "I heard..."

"Yeah, I got kidnaped!" the girl exclaimed loudly, jumping at the opening to tell her story one more time. "It was SOOO freaky!"

* * *

Outside Superboy spoke into his communicator. "They wouldn't let me in." His tone was hurt hidden under anger. He might as well have said "They don't want me here."

"I could force my way in but you said be discreet," he accused.

Kaldur signed. "I did not anticipate needing to follow a thirteen year old into a bar. I will send Ms. Martian to assist. Until she arrives do your best from outside the club. Check for any back doors, try to keep an eye on them as well."

"How?" Superboy snapped.

"Just... do your best," Kaldur repeated.

Superboy squinted fiercely at the building, willing X-Ray vision to kick-in. After a few minutes the line of people in front of the club began to glow with infrared signatures but the building remained stubbornly opaque to his eyes. "More defects," Superboy muttered.

Then he leapt to the build's roof and paced back and forth, keeping an eye on the front door and the alley behind the club.

/I platformed to Gotham,/ M'Gann reported, forming a mental link with Superboy. /See you soon./

Not long after M'Gann touched down in front of the club. She waved to Superboy and smiled. Then she shifted her coloring to transparency and slipped past the bouncer.

/Superboy, I'm in,/ M'Gann thought. She looked surprised as her mind brushed up against someone familiar. /Robin? What are you doing here? Batman said you were busy./

A burst of irritation answered her. /Cheat.../ Robin quickly pushed his initial reaction out of his public mind. M'Gann's impression of Robin's mind was of a grand house where she was invited into the foyer but no further. /M'Gann, you're here too? I thought the team was following Dick Grayson. How'd you end up in a bar? He's only thirteen./

/So are you, and you're here./ Superboy griped. /They just wouldn't let me in./ The last seemed more like a stray thought than something he had intended to broadcast M'Gann thought. Superboy's mind was more like a cactus than a house, she had to stretch a finger delicately past the thorns to reach him at all and then she had to be careful to only brush lightly against the surface of his mind because she was past his defenses and anything more would be an intrusion.

/Age doesn't matter. I have ninja training,/ Robin replied smugly. /Dick Grayson probably just bribed the bouncer./

/Since we're all here, why don't we work together?/ M'Gann suggested cheerfully.

/We should focus on our own missions,/ Robin disagreed, firmly showing M'Gann the door out of his mind.

On the physical plane M'Gann had been floating about the club crowd, still in invisible mode, looking for Dick Grayson. She spotted him just as Robin escorted her out of his mindscape. The distant but intense look on Dick's face matched Robin's mental presence perfectly.

M'Gann quickly dropped the mental link she'd established with her teammates before she could inadvertently revel anything. She frowned as she stared down at Dick, hurt that Robin was apparently so unwilling to reveal himself to them. Then she felt like a hypocrite. 'Hello Megan! It's not as if you've told them everything. Beside, remember what Uncle J'Onn said about respecting Batman's privacy? Robin's probably under order to keep his identity secret, even from us... I wouldn't want to get him in trouble. I guess I'll just have to keep his secret for him,' she giggled. 'I won't even tell him that I know.'

On the roof of the club Superboy scowled as he felt M'Gann cut him out of the link. Apparently no one wanted him here.

* * *

/Superboy, he's leaving,/ M'Gann projected a little over an hour later. She frowned when her mental probe found only emptiness. /Superboy? Superboy!/

M'Gann watched Dick Grayson head toward the parking garage then glanced up at the roof where Superboy was supposed to be, torn.

'Robin will be okay for a few minutes,' M'Gann reasoned. 'I have to find out what happened to Superboy.' She flew up to the roof. There was no sign of her teammate. /Superboy!/ she projected loudly as she scanned the surrounding city for his mental signature.

M'Gann pressed her fingertips to her temples, searching further and further. Finally she activated her comm. "Aqualad, I can't find Superboy! He just disappeared."

"Continue to monitor Grayson. I will contact Batman and Artemis then platform over and we will search for Superboy," Kaldur ordered.

"But-" M'Gann protested.

"You have a mission," Kaldur cut her off. "You are the only one currently on site. Stay with Grayson." With that he cut channel.

/Robin?/ M'Gann called. /I know you're baiting the kidnappers. But Superboy is missing. We should scrape the mission and go find him./

/Wha?/ Robin's mental voice came back groggy and weak.

M'Gann felt a shiver of panic.

* * *

The next night Kaldur scowled forbiddingly as he debriefed his team. "_Fortunately_ Batman did not trust us to carry out our mission," he declared. "He had Grayson tagged with a tracer and was able to follow the signal after we lost track of the boy. He rescued Grayson and apprehended the kidnappers, while we accomplished nothing."

M'Gann and Artemis squirmed guiltily under Kaldur's disappointed gaze. Robin and Superboy were both sulking, arms crossed, scowling at anyone who looked their way. Wally fidgeted , biting his lower lip and stealing rapid-fire glances at first Robin then M'Gann.

"Superboy, Ms. Martian, you both abandoned your assigned posts," Kaldur chastised.

M'Gann looked to Robin pleadingly.

"It wasn't my assignment," Robin declared petulantly. "I just happened to be in the neighborhood."

"I didn't know what had happened to Superboy," M'Gann protested.

"No one wanted me there," Superboy complained sullenly.

"You did not have proper ID to get into the club," Kaldur snapped, frustrated with Superboy's attitude. "There was a civilian life at stake and you act like children at recess!" He frowned at M'Gann, "Running off after a crush," then at Superboy, "Storming out when things do not go as you would like."

"That's not fair!" M'Gann exclaimed.

"If Robin hadn't been.." Artemis began almost at the same moment.

"Look everything turned out okay," Wally jumped in, talking over both girls. "The kidnappers got caught, no one got hurt, lets not fight over it."

"I don't have ID period," Superboy snapped. "I'm not a real person after all." He stomped out leaving a trail of dents in the floor panels and a silent room.

After a moment Kaldur sighed. "I will talk to him. This discussion is not closed."

* * *

Kaldur stood stiffly in front of Batman. "I would respectfully request you _not _send us on missions where you chose to withhold critical information in the future."

"I have not," Batman replied mildly.

"Then M'Gann and Artemis are wrong? Lying?" Kaldur asked frostily.

"It is irrelevant," Batman stated. "As Batman I carry well over a hundred tool and weapons, I wear fifty pounds of body armor. While Robin and I always have our training, our abilities are reduced in our civilian identities. Further more, we cannot compromise our civilian identities and continue to operate. Dick Grayson cannot rescue himself from kidnappers, whether or not he is also Robin is irrelevant."

"I... will explain the situation to M'Gann and Artemis," Kaldur sighed. "Although I do not withdraw my request that we not be placed in such a situation again."

* * *

_November 14, 2011_

"Dick Grayson," Piper announced smugly as he walked Robin out of the Rogue's hide-out two weeks after Conner had come to stay in Central.

Robin stared at him, horrified. A moment later he covered his true reaction with an expression of polite confusion. "Bruce Wayne's ward, everyone in Gotham, heck, the country, knows that. What about him?"

Piper snorted. "Good try, except I was functionally deaf up until two years ago. Spoken English is practically a third language for me."

"Really?" Robin interjected, trying to change the subject. "What are your first two?"

"ALS, not that my family cared enough to learn it… and lip reading," Piper replied. "I don't focus on a person's eyes when I talk to them. Dick Grayson and Hartley Rathaway have attended more than one charity event together. You have the same mouth: chipped tooth just left of center, small scar at the corner of your mouth."

"Batman's gonna kill me," Robin groaned. "Is there anyone who doesn't know my real identity?"

"I don't think any of the older Rogues care enough to figure it out," Piper replied. "Even Evan doesn't give a damn, but it annoyed me: You being all secretive and a snoop at the same time... I found one of your bugs by the way. Making them look like little bats? What the hell was Batman thinking? He might as well sign them."

"Actually that's the point," Robin remarked. "In Gotham he's like the boogeyman, if a crook finds the bug then he doesn't just know that someone's on to him, he knows Batman's on to him. Some people just give their schemes up right then, and since the idea is stop crime…"

After a moment Robin continued. "I only bugged your place because I was worried about Conner."

"You _do_ realize that bugging people is not a normal, healthy way of expressing concern for your friends?" Piper remarked.

"It's a Bat thing," Robin admitted with a shrug.

"You're not going to hear anything incriminating anyway," Piper said. "Cold doesn't want us planning jobs in front of Conner. That way he won't feel like he has to stop us. By the time Con knows something's going down, he's occupied with babysitting Owen. It's not like you can brood about anything while the brat's demanding attention." Then he shrugged. "We're used to not being trusted. You can keep your bugs. Actually I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention it to Cold that I told you we knew about them. He doesn't want you knowing that we know."

"Your advantage if you can use our bugs to feed us false info," Robin agreed with Cold's reasoning. "All we really want to know is how Conner's getting along."

Piper nodded. "I won't tell Batman, or anyone, that I know who you are. I just- Well- You make such a big deal about keeping your identity secret, then you snoop. It's like you're lording it over us and I got tired of you thinking you're so great at hiding things."

* * *

_December 17, 2011_

"You're sure a heffalump snuck into the base?" Robin heard Conner ask. "The cave has really good security."

"It did sneaked in!" Owen exclaimed. "I sawed it! And we're gonna catch it!"

Robin snickered. Quietly he peered around the corner to watch the pair.

"Your turn. Check corner," Owen ordered.

Robin watched as Conner accepted the nerf-boomerang and prepared to give it a half-hearted toss.

"Not like that!" Owen declared. "Up!" He demanded and Conner lifted the little boy off the ground, settling him in the crook of his free arm. Owen climbed up to Conner's shoulders then leaned out and rearranged the older boy's hold on the boomerang. "Better," Owen stated authoritatively. "Now throw like this." The little boy demonstrated, one arm wrapped around Conner's neck while he mimed throwing with the other. "Like Papa."

Conner managed a credible imitation of technique but the throw was much too tentative. The boomerang made a few wobbly turns before losing altitude. Owen giggled then petted Conner's hair. "Little bit better," he said. "I'll show more."

"Hey Owen, does Conner even know what a heffalump looks like?" Robin asked.

Conner tensed up, he turned to face the smaller boy with a scowl. Robin winced at the purple, blood-shot bruises covering half his face, reminders of Conner's encounter with Hawkgirl's mace.

"Owen said he'd point it out," Conner said defensively. "From the name, it must be some sort of elephant, only a small one. There's no way a full sized elephant snuck into the base."

Robin couldn't help it, he laughed.

Conner glared. He turned to Owen. "Heffalumps are like the Treasury Dragon, aren't they?"

"Huh-un," Owen protested. "Papa told me 'bout the mean ol' Treasy Dragon. I saw heffalumps on the telly!"

"I could download a whole show on heffalumps and woozles in the infirmary so you could show Conner what they're like," Robin offered. To Conner he added. "It's sort of where you're supposed to be anyway."

"I'm fine," Conner insisted shortly but Owen had scrambled down and was tugging him back in the direction from which they'd come.

"It's 'pressive that you managed to sneak out in the first place. I mean the place is practically bursting at the seams with us, our mentors and the Rogues all here," Robin chatted. When Conner didn't ask about his latest linguistic venture Robin elaborated. "It's not quite_ im-pressive_ though. With the way the mentors are watching the Rogues and the Rogues are watching the mentors it's less than shocking that they'd miss something from another quarter."

Conner didn't say anything. His scowl didn't lighten at all.

It occurred to Robin that it had been awhile since he'd been able to improve Conner's moods. Robin waited until they were back in the infirmary and Owen was absorbed in the adventures of Winnie the Pooh. Then he asked, "Is something wrong? 'Cause I get the feel you're mad at me."

"You don't trust me," Conner said flatly.

"What! Where would you get that idea?" Robin demanded, startled.

"You won't tell me your name," Conner said.

"Oh come on!" Robin protested. "It's just a Bat thing."

"Everyone else knows," Conner broke in. "Or do your teachers call you Robin when you and Artemis are at school together?"

"But I didn't_ tell_ her," Robin quibbled.

Conner just gave him a hurt look. 'He's getting better at expression emotions,' Robin thought. 'It wasn't so long ago that hurt, uncertain or uncomfortable all looked like angry on him.'

Then Robin surrendered. "Sorry. I didn't mean to leave you out. Truth is I didn't ever realize that you hadn't figured it out. Everyone else pried." He added in a whine.

He offered Conner his hand. "Hi, I'm Dick Grayson, but all of my friends call me Robin."


	4. First Day

**First Day**

**Disclaimer: **Characters and premise are the property of DC, I'm just borrowing them for a little non-profit fun.

* * *

"Welcome to your first day of kindergarten! I'm Ms. Peterson, I'm going to be your teacher." Meredith hoped her bright, cheerful tone carried no hint that it was also her first day teaching her own class.

"Now when I call your name, why don't you tell your new classmates something about yourself?" She waited for a moment, until she'd received a few signs of acknowledgment. One little boy nodded so fast it almost looked as if he blurred, but that had to be her imagination. "Mary Abbot."

A little girl with a long braid waved her hand. "That's me! But I don't gotta tell Rita about me," she pointed to another little girl sitting beside her. "She lives next door to me and we're best friends!"

Meredith smiled and nodded. "Robert Chavez?" No one answered. "Is Robert here?"

She saw one of the boys elbow his neighbor. The second boy scowled. "My name's Bobby, not Robert!" he declared emphatically.

Meredith made a show of changing his name in her grade book. "Bobby, not Robert," she said and won a lessening of the scowl.

"Marissa Edgewood?"

A hesitant hand snuck up.

"Do you want to say hello to your classmates?" Meredith prompted.

"hi," the girl whispered, she blushed bright red, then looked down, hiding her face behind a curtain of hair.

"Owen Harkness?" Meredith moved on.

She blinked, there was a little boy standing in front of the room, she was sure he hadn't been there a moment ago. "Hi!" he declared confidently. "I'm Owen. I was born in the future. That's why my mom is littler than me."

Meredith blinked. "That's... very imaginative Owen. But if you could tell us something real..."

Owen rolled his eyes and gave a put upon sign. "I didn't lie! That's what Tricks and Evan say. Papa and Mr. Flash say she isn't but they just don't want her to be," he insisted. "But okay, I'll tell you something else: I'm gonna be a Rogue when I get bigger."

'Owen... Harkness," Meredith though. She'd grown up in Central City, of course she'd seen the Rogues on the news. 'But surely he couldn't be related to_ that_ Harkness. Super-villains don't have kids, do they? Well, maybe _have _kids, there wasn't any qualification for _having_ kids. But no one would let them _raise_ a kid. Of course no one _let _them rob banks either and that still happened. Still, a super-villain wouldn't put his kid in a school just like a normal parent. Only the Rogues had been helping the Justice League during the last big crisis, so maybe they'd reformed and maybe they would. But_ her_ class, her very first class? Surely not!'

While Meredith was considering a panic-attack Owen was enjoying having an audience.

"The Rogues are sort of like superheroes, but they nag less. And they don't bug bank robbers, 'cause that's Flash's job and he'd get all outta shape if he didn't have someone to chase. That's what Uncle Len says," Owen explained exuberantly. "I'm gonna throw boomerangs like my papa. I practice lots and lots so I can throw really good and not harder than I mean to. I haven't broke a wall in _ages_."

"You mean a window right?" Meredith asked with faint hope.

"Naw, he means a wall." Meredith turned toward the older voice. Without the bright blue tunic, the scarf and the silly cap Captain Boomerang was a hard looking man. He frowned at his son. "Now, cough it up kiddo."

Owen's eyes widened. "Papa, what'd you mean?" he asked innocently.

"Don't even try it, I've got a lot more experience selling a line," Digger held out his hand expectantly.

Owen pouted. He dragged his feet as he made his way back to his seat.

Digger tapped his foot.

Owen sighed, opened his backpack and pulled out a boomerang.

"_That_ doesn't belong at school and you know it," Digger stated.

"I was just gonna show 'em," Owen whined. "I wasn't gonna throw it. It's not even one of your cool, exploding ones or anything!"

"This the only thing you _borrowed_?" Digger asked as he tucked the boomerang into his belt. "Any of Tricksters' toys mebbe?"

"Papa! I'm not dumb!" Owen exclaimed with outrage. "I never touch Tricks' stuff. I don't wanna get dyed or gummed up o stinky! But I'm 'llowed to play with boomerangs!"

"You're allowed when?" Digger asked.

Owen dug his toe into the floor and stalled a bit. Digger waited. Owen heaved a large sigh. "When you or Con or Grandpa Flash is there."

"And why is that?"

"So it's safe," Owen admitted. "But I wasn't gonna throw it!"

"Right," Digger replied skeptically. "And when the other ankle-biters wanted to see what you can do with it your were going to say 'no'. Sure kiddo, pull the other one why don't ya? No weapons at school!"

Owen pouted for several moments then gave in. "I promise."

Digger ruffled the little boy's hair. "He's a good kid, really," he assured Meredith.

"Yep!" Owen piped up. "I don't get in even_ half _as much trouble as Trickster." Then his eyes filled with worry. "Why are you crying Teacher-Lady?"

Digger scratched at the back of his head, looking embarrassed. "Maybe I'd better give you a few numbers. Me, Cold, Conner... All the Flashes. Just in case, ya know."


End file.
